Streak of Madness
by fmayang
Summary: He stared blankly at the padded walls of his cell, his body weak from pain and exhaustion. He could hardly remember a time when he wasn't in the jacket and any memories he had were being zapped away by the white coats. What was his name again? Ah, yes. Roy Mustang... The mental case.- A fic based around human nature and medical cases. Rated M for language and themes. Please rate
1. Startling Development

_The human mind is a mysterious and yet familiar thing; predictable, common, weak, and yet it is the one factor that separates humans from the rest of the natural world. Each person is born with one mind—a mind that will grow, learn, and mature over time. But what happens when a person discovers a second mind within themselves?_

* * *

The military-issued vehicles ground to a halt outside of the old brick factory and the clicking of brakes chirped alongside the slams of car doors and the loading of guns. A shined black boot stepped easily into a small puddle, its owner leaning out of his car and into the mid-day sun. "Colonel Mustang, sir, your orders?" a young woman inquired from his right. Her blonde hair was kept flatteringly behind her head by a clip and it spiked out at the top of her skull creating a faux-fan. The man closed his door and re-tugged his embroidered gloves.

"All right. Squadron 1 will take the back entrance, Squads 2 and 3 will take the fire escape to go in from above, Squadron 4 will take the front entrance, and Squad 5 will follow me through the facility. Keep on your guard and unless they are in uniform, cuff 'em. Tempest hits in 5 minutes! Dismissed!" the man issued with a salute, his pale hand a stark contrast to the inky-black hair that adorned his head. The soldiers all saluted and nodded in return before heading to their teams and positions.

"Sir, if you don't mind my interruption…" the woman spoke again. He turned to face her and nodded for her to continue. She took a breath and then commenced. "Colonel Mustang, with all due respect, don't you think you should enlist some more back-up? As the main objective is for_ you _to dispose of the target, you are really quite the prize for an enemy snipe." The colonel scoffed and flicked his hair out of his eyes. "Now, Lieutenant, why would I_ ever_ enlist some man I don't know when I have _your_ eyes looking out for me?" he joked suggestively. The woman shut her eyes angrily. "Well, _sir_, at least another soldier would know who to hit, as I aim for the _idiots_ and I fear you may be caught as an accidental mark."

Roy Mustang pursed his lips and whistled softly. "Jeez, okay, okay… Harsh." Lieutenant Hawkeye sighed and rolled her shoulders gently. "Sorry, sir." Roy looked up and squinted at the sun. "Just another madman needing to be taken down, huh?" he asked no one in particular. He looked back down and rubbed his temple. "This headache definitely won't help me in aiming at the sorry sod." Hawkeye leaned forward. "Do you need a tablet, sir? We still have three minutes until we move in, I'm sure the medical team cou—" "No. Not enough time for it to actually _work_ so there's no real use to it."

The man stretched out his back and popped his fingers before heading over to where his team was meeting up, leaving a somewhat disgruntled Lieutenant Hawkeye behind him. "What is it?" he asked. She shook her head with a slight trimmer. "Just… The popping, Sir." Roy smirked. "Oh, you mean like this?" he asked slyly, turned his head to his shoulder, a loud cracking sound coming from his vertebrae. "SIR. PLEASE. STOP." Roy shrugged and stopped walking once the two arrived at the door.

The soldiers looked at the man and a couple of them moved behind him and kept their rifles close to their chests, hand ready on the trigger. Roy turned back around and closed his eyes to try and ease the throbbing in his head even just a tad before heading in on his hit. He had to be completely calm, had to stay within his protective shell of soldiers, and to take down the target swiftly with as few casualties as possible. He flexed his right hand easing away the slight tremble in the fingertips. Despite his years of practice, he still felt a twinge of fear and adrenaline whenever he was given a "sweep" mission. He opened his eyes and looked down at his watch and nodded to the first soldier. They nodded back and turned to the cars and raised his arm. Their drivers began to form a ring around the entrance and the medical van turned on its siren before backing into the alleyway, signaling all of the soldiers that it was time.

The sounds of busted windows and crashing metal doors rang out from all over the building and Roy snapped his fingers at the locked door in front of them to contribute to the noise. The door's hinges melted away from his alchemic fire and the soldiers kicked the shield down. The team began running through the base floor to the cover of the old shipment crates. They ducked down and took a few breaths before continuing on with their raid. Roy looked up and planned out his means of attack.

Acquire target.

Funnel into aim.

Target his spinal fluid.

Snap.

Target heart.

Snap.

Get out of the way.

File report.

Go home.

He took a deep breath and started off. He ran for the steel ladder and climbed furiously, hoping to out-climb any sniper who hoped to knock him off. He got to the office at the end of the metal railway just as the bullets started shrieking around his body. He ducked behind the wall and crawled away from the door and under the window. Glass shattered above him and he felt his scalp slice from an especially large shard. He heard his team's guns fire at his attacks and soon the guns were firing at each other rather than him. He could hear feet falling against the somewhat rusted railway he was connected to. He readied his hand and pointed it at the entrance way.

His lieutenant ran into the room and she was followed by five other men, the other seven now clearly left behind for protection. "Orders, Colonel?" one of the men asked. Roy blinked rapidly, his blood seeping into his eye. "Uh-Assemble formation Arrow once we get down the wall." The soldiers nodded and the team hurried out one-by-one and slid down a ladder that led to a hallway behind a wall. Roy grabbed onto the metal railing and jumped, but his falling was much faster than his other men due to his gloves. His feet met the ground sooner than he had intended and he felt himself stumble backwards into one of his soldiers. The man was very kind about the accidental impact much to Roy's relief. The team got into formation and began heading down the pathway which was surprisingly well-lit considering the factory had been out of work for roughly a decade.

"Sir, forgive my asking, but do all of these lights prove that the culprit has been here?" a very young soldier to Roy's right asked. Roy nodded a bit with a shrug. "Has been? Yes. But only them? Not likely." The team moved in slowly, their footsteps quiet despite the echoing tunnel. They froze when the lights began to flicker. Roy stepped forward and motioned for the lantern that one of the soldiers carried alongside his gun hilt. Roy snapped his fingers quietly and lit the candlewick inside the torch and it was alight for only a moment before the lights went out completely.

The only light in the hallway now came from the fire in Roy's hand and he stretched his arm out to try and illuminate the tunnel. He could hear the sound of running and caught a glimpse of a man in an apron running across the hall before disappearing behind the hall's wall again.

"HOLD IT! GET BACK HERE!" Roy shouted as he threw the lantern to the ground, leaving his men behind. "Colonel Mustang, wait!" Hawkeye shouted, her voice worried. Roy ignored her call and continued down the pitch black path and turned the corner before all light disappeared and he was running in blinding darkness. He ran on, hearing the footsteps of his soldiers behind him, but also a single pair of feet running in front of him. He saw a sliver of light against a wall in front of him to his right and a quiet door closing.

Running faster with his left hand trailing against the wall, Roy reached the break in the hallway. He turned quickly to his left and began heading down the pathway and ran forward with a hand outstretched to stop himself from heading blindly into a door. He felt cold, slightly damp metal and skid to a stop, his face mere centimeters from the door. He groped for the handle and when he found it, pushed and pulled against it, the distinctive clinks signifying that it was locked.

"Tch!" Roy tutted, bringing his hand in front of him. He activated the transmutation circle sewn into his glove and was now illuminated by a dull red glow shining from the thread. He moved the hand over to the side of the door and found the hinges. He snapped his fingers and the rusted metal glowed a brilliant orange before oozing off from their places. Roy slammed his body into the door and it feel back into the room it guarded, the sheer weight of its sound showing how large the room truly was.

Roy stepped on and over the fallen door, snapping his fingers again to send a small fireball into the room. The flames snaked slowly through the air as Roy manipulated them as to get the best picture of his surroundings. What they painted was a horrifying picture of the like Roy wished he could erase from his mind.

Blood glistened along the walls and the floor with a sickeningly red-brown reflection of the fire. Meat and fat was separated into different shelves and labeled with what looked to be toe-tags. Metal glistened like ruby-encrusted silver as blood dried. Roy could now smell the distinct scent of human decay and tugged his uniform collar up over his nose, the national emblem's pin pricking his nostril. He snapped his fingers again as the fireball died and maintained a small bright jet of plasma in the palm of his hand, using the light to watch where he trod. The nauseating aroma of raw innards churned Roy's stomach like a flooded brook, and he had to swallow down bile that tried to surface from his abdomen.

"S… Show yourself!" he barked, his voice louder than anticipated.

A small flint-like spark drew his attention to a floor-based ventilation duct, which reflected the hidden light. Roy snuffed out the flare and carefully got on his hands and knees as he cautiously peered through the metal tube. The light shining was bright blue and Roy could tell immediately from the electrifying crackle that it was residual transmutation energy.

_Alchemy…_ Roy thought to himself, biting his lip out of nervousness. Taking a deep, silent breath, he started to crawl through the vent, his movements surprisingly quiet as he shuffled along in the metal passage. With his flame out, he skin now reflected the brilliant blue from the unseen transmutation and he could feel the air from the room before him warp and flux with each surge of energy that the hidden circle poured out.

He slowed to a halt as he reached the mouth of the chamber and slowly—silently—reached for his gun. He grabbed the holster and began to pull the weapon out but accidently hit the butt of the gun against the ceiling of the vent, sending a loud ring into both rooms. He set his jaw tightly as he waited for movement to sound. He heard only the crackling of the transmutation and nothing else. He exhaled through his nose and blinked slowly.

He opened his eyes to see a hand throwing itself out toward his face.

Roy's exclamation was muffled by his attacker's palm and he felt his skull being crushed by the mighty hand that was now pulling him out of the vent. He whipped his gun out from his side but before he could aim, the attacker slammed Roy's head to the floor, splitting the sliced skin on his scalp into a fault line of blood. The gun rattled to the floor and the perpetrator kicked it away under a cabinet. Roy tugged at his attacker's arms, trying to pry himself free from the crushing grasp. He felt himself being dragged across the floor and could hear the alchemic crackling growing louder with each step his assailant took.

_No, no, stop it! _Roy thought feverishly as he kicked and fought to be free of the man who was dragging him to the circle. He felt himself being tossed to the floor and the swirling feeling of energy from the circle enveloped his body. "NO YOU DON'T!" Roy howled, jumping up and tackling the man, sending both of them down to the ground. Roy punched the man alongside the left cheekbone and returned his fist across the nose, sending tiny specks of blood onto his pants leg.

The man reached forward and held Roy by the throat, forcing the man back down into the circle. Roy's screams were garbled by his collapsing windpipe and through his tearing eyes he could see the man's face. He stopped struggling.

"You…!" he choked.

The man smiled with wide, glazed eyes.

He forced his hand into Roy's mouth, the Colonel's muffled groans and pained yelps muted by the fist. Roy felt a slight burning in the back of his jaw but his mind registered it as choking and he coughed furiously. Finally, Roy was able to get his leg under the target's chest and he kicked him right in the solar plexus.

The man fell backward with a pained gasp but his intake of air was deafened by Roy's need to replenish _his _aching lungs. Roy turned to his side and gasped frantically, his blood still not oxygenated enough for coherent thought. "You… You bastard…!" Roy hissed, his voiced rattled by pain. He pushed himself to his hands and knees before feeling a sharp jolt crash into his stomach, the stinging clearly revealing to Roy that he was kicked.

Roy's vision was blinded by the bright blue of the circle as he poised his hand to snap. He felt the man's hand over his face and he snapped. A dazzling display of flame and electricity engulfed the room and the men's screams bellowed out through the vent into the bloodied chamber. Smoke swam through the duct and filled the room and poured into the hallway.

The soldiers turned their lantern in the direction of the hellish scream and the swirling particles revealed the frame of an entryway. They began to storm into the room, gasps and cries of horror escaping their mouths as they looked around themselves at the purgatory of a room they were in. Lieutenant Hawkeye fought her way through and looked around frantically.

"Colonel Mustang!" She called out, no reply coming forth.

"COLONEL MUSTANG!" She pleaded, silence choking the air more than the smoke.

"ROY MUSTANG, ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!" She screamed, her voice losing all professionalism.

Silence.

The lantern light shone through the haze and shone upon the whisps escaping from the ventilation. Riza gritted her teeth and ran headstrong for the opening. The other soldiers failed in stopping her but they held tight to her feet as she tried to crawl through the passage. "Colonel!" she called out, her hands tightened into fists. She could hear fevered gasps and the sound of… Water?

She grabbed her gun and kicked the soldiers off before crawling quickly toward the sound. She pushed herself out of the vent and pointed her gun in the direction of the sounds. The dimmed light of the lantern barely outlined anything in the room, but her closer proximity to the source of the sounds allowed her a better understanding of what was happening. She could hear the quickened gasps that accompanied the sound of slurps and squelching water.

Cocking her gun, Riza pointed her weapon at the unknown man.

He didn't acknowledge her presence.

She slowly moved out of the vent, her aim on the man remaining steady. She stuck her hand back into the duct and motioned for the torch to be passed on to her. When she felt warm metal touch her fingers she grabbed on and swung the light out into the room and she held her breath. She felt her knees buckle and she felt her insides twist into oroborous-like tangles.

Dropping the lantern, Riza's hold on her gun shook with absolute terror. She fell to her knees with a howl of disgust at the sight before her. The next soldier crawling through the hole quickened his pace and he jumped out with his gun pointed in the direction of Riza's fear. He shuddered.

"What the fuck…!" he stammered.

The lantern's top flap was now jut out and a pure beam of light shown on their target, flickering golden light against the oozing red blood that seeped from the red-haired man. Blood soaked Roy's uniform and body, his hair even dripping in it as he leaned forward to soak in his face in the fluid and his gasped breaths broke out only when he stopped biting and swallowing the meat he was devouring. His eyes were wide as was his demonic smile as he tore the victim apart piece by piece.

Roy froze, muscle dangling from his teeth. He rose his head painstakingly slow, blood raining down from his jaw onto his lap. He stared blankly at the soldier in front of him before smiling eerily.

Roy lunged for the man, but he fell forward from tripping over the body. He began to try and crawl for Riza but the soldier tackled him and held him face-down against the floor, Roy's snarled laughter chilling every man to their smallest particle. Riza felt tears fall down her cheeks as she watched her superior fight to bite the soldier who was valiantly trying to keep him down. More soldiers came in and helped cuff the man, who was now howling like a deranged monster, as Riza dropped her gaze to her knees.

She felt her heart tighten and her jaw quivered more with each breath. Wrapping her hands around her head she let out a moan of agony, setting everyone into a permanent feeling of dread. Roy ceased snarling and sat still under the weight of the men. He blinked rapidly, shaking his head slightly. He looked around himself and furrowed his brows.

"What… What's going on?" he asked under his breath.

He set his eyes on Riza and he gasped. "Lieu… Lieutenant? What's… What's wrong?" She looked up and could only shake her head in disgust. Roy nearly groveled for a better answer, but he felt his frame being pulled up off of the ground and up to his feet. "H-hey! Hold on, who-!?" He slammed against the wall and he felt himself getting a pat-down for weapons, as well and the removal of his strangely wetted gloves.

"What's the meaning of this!?" he stammered, his forceful voice now cracked and panicked. He looked back behind him and stared fearfully at his squad, all of whom either glared at him or turned away. "What the hell is going on here!? ANSWER ME!" he shouted before his face was pushed back into the cement wall. He caught a glimpse of his attacker from the corner of his left eye and he felt his insides freeze.

"Roy Mustang, you are under arrest for the… Illegal mutilation and devouring of a human being."


	2. Feign Attempts

Roy sat silently in the police car as it drove him to the Eastern Jail. He couldn't wrap his head around what the soldiers had said to him_. I… I didn't kill him, I KNOW I didn't! My fire attacked too far to the left for him to have died and his attempt at transmuting me failed as I'm still here. But…_ He looked down at himself.

His once glorious blue uniform was now a revolting brown and it was beginning to get sticky from the coagulating blood that soaked it. Roy held back a retch as he turned back to the cop car window_. Why am I being accused of doing this!? It was probably that psycho that made that room his meat locker and he just framed me!_ Roy sighed through his teeth and looked up solemnly at the policemen that were driving him to his new "home."

He never thought he'd find himself in this situation, never.

He let his jaw slacken a bit when he saw the jail coming in closer in view. He had been in jails before, but always for investigations, never for actual detainment. He swallowed nervously, the taste of blood masking his saliva. He felt his fingers tremble as they neared the facility, the gates slowly being rolled in to let their car pass through. The terrifying slam of the chain-linked barrier chilled Roy's heart and he shook his head in disbelief.

"This can't be happening… It just can't…!" he pondered under his breath. The car came to a stop and two policemen came to Roy's door. Opening it for him, they jabbed their thumbs back in an order for him to exit the vehicle. Roy took a deep breath and then stepped out, the sunlight blindingly pure. He felt the officers' hands on his arms and he began walking alongside them.

"You're quite cooperative for a creep, Roy Mustang," the officer to his right remarked. Roy turned to the man and knitted his brows. "I didn't do anything, but I know better than to kick and scream about it." The soldier to his left snorted. "You aren't innocent, Mustang, especially with all that damn blood you're bathed in." Roy whimpered softly. "But I didn't do it…! I KNOW I didn't." The soldiers led him into a room with a hamper and shelves of clothes. "Yeah, right. Just hurry up and get changed into your uniform, and don't even think of doing anything funny because anything you do will be used against you in court," the first man barked, unlocked Roy's handcuffs. The men stepped back and waited for their new prisoner to strip.

Roy stretched out his fingers. He sighed and began to undo the buttons of his uniform. He noted it was much heavier than usual, probably due to the blood, and pointed to the hamper questioningly and the policemen nodded. Roy took a deep breath and took the pocket watch off from its cord and he held it caringly as he let the jacket fall into the cloth basket. He tightened his hand around the silver timepiece and walked over to the men. They began to move for their batons but Roy held out the watch for them to take.

"It's the proof of my state title and protocol states that, should something like this crazy misunderstanding happen, I need to hand my watch back over to the state until the mess is sorted out. I wouldn't want for it to get damaged by a washing…" The officers looked at one another and finally the one that had been on Roy's left took it from his hand. Roy smiled graciously and then returned to where he had been undressing. He began pulling his shirt off and thought about what had happened back in that damnable factory.

He was being attacked by the man he was ordered to eliminate, he tried to burn him but missed, he felt a strange sensation like that of swimming in freezing fire, and then he was suddenly pinned to the ground and his subordinate was crying. Roy knew there was a gap in his memory, but even if he _had_ committed the horrendous crime that the police were insisting he did, he would've remembered at least a tiny fragment of that time, right? Like a feeling of time passing, correct? But he didn't. It was just a sudden skip in events with no in between.

He stood there in his boxers for a moment, feeling the shame wash over him that officers of the law were watching him. He turned his back to them and grabbed the change of clothes and began to don them. Once in his new prison garb, he piled the last of his things into the bin and walked back over to the officers. They grabbed his wrists and locked them in a large wooden block. "Now, we are going to take you to your temporary cell until tonight when your interrogation is scheduled. Do you have any objections?" Roy looked up at the soldier and smiled deviously. "Well, do _you_ have any objections if I were to bite into that lovely neck of yours, officer?" The policeman frowned. "You think this is a joke?" he asked darkly, hand ready on his baton. Roy licked his lips suggestively.

"Not at all, sweetheart~," he cooed, and the officer grit his teeth, visibly disgusted.

"All right, shove off, now!" the other ordered, pushing Roy on his way in front of them. "W-wait, what'd I do!?" Roy asked worriedly. "Don't play coy with us, creep, just keep walking." Roy turned back to the hallway he now found himself in. He swallowed fearfully.

Another skip.

"Sirs… If I may ask, wha—" "Shut your trap and keep walking." Roy bit his lip and looked down at the floor. _What just happened?_ Roy continued on until the officers grabbed him by the arms again and this time they were noticeably rougher, squeezing his skin until Roy could swear he was going to bruise. He dared not say another word though as he feared another lapse in his memory could happen if he did. They continued walking for a while, passing at least twenty cells until the men pulled Roy to a halt. The officers unlocked a cell-block door and opened it before tossing their prisoner inside it.

Roy staggered to gain his footing and turned around in time to watch the officers slam the bars closed and lock him in. Roy stood up straight and looked sadly at the officers before they walked back to their stations. The guards' door closed with a loud clang and soon the felons were chatting up a storm. Roy sighed shakily and turned to look at his cell.

It was small of course, with no window, an open toilet, two beds, and one mirror. Roy nearly gasped when he looked upon the bed to his left and saw a rather large man laying there on his back. Tattoos decorated his arms like a grapevine of vulgarity; skulls, flames, swears, and exposed breasts being the forbidden fruit of said vines. He swallowed his courage and walked over to his bed slowly and quietly. Easing himself down onto it, he tried to make the wooden creaking of his weight upon it as quiet as possible, but still the sound was irritatingly audible. Roy slowly rested himself on his side, his back to the criminal. He stared into the cinder blocks that were now his walls and he exhaled through his nose. He would rest now as to be in prime condition for his interrogation.

Not that he was guilty of anything, of course.

* * *

Roy felt his shoulder being shaken and he opened his eyes groggily. He looked over behind him and saw an officer standing with his arms crossed. Roy wiped the sleep from his eyes and scooted himself over to stand up. He popped his shoulder blades before following the man out of the cell, leaving his roommate behind. He looked back as the bars shut once more and he now saw that the man was roughly twice Roy's age, a long scar trailing down from his left temple to the right of his upper lip. Roy frowned as he turned back to the officer's back.

He didn't even remember closing his eyes to fall asleep, nor any dreams at all. This wouldn't have been so unusual if not for the fact that it was now pitch black outside and when Roy arrived it had been around 11am. He had slept roughly eight hours and yet had no recollection of doing so. He was beginning to feel truly scared. "Stop dozing off." He straightened up and blinked rapidly to try and shake away what fear he was feeling. "My apologies," he spoke softly, not wanting to provoke the officer.

The man led him to a hallway devoid of cells. His shoes clacked deafeningly on the tile floor as Roy's bare feet padded softly in contrast. Taking a left turn, the man unlocked a door and motioned for Roy to enter. The officer closed the door behind him and locked it. Roy sighed as he looked upon the nearly empty wooden table in front of him. A single light hung from the ceiling and the eerie yellow glow it cast on Roy's investigator made the air in the room seem far more sinister.

"Mister Mustang, correct?" the interrogator asked coolly, his hands folded in front of his chin. "Y… Yes, sir." The man smiled warmly. "Please, take a seat," he offered as he motioned to the single wooden chair in front of him across the table.

Roy sat down and rested his hands on the table. The investigator pursed his lips and began jotting something down on his clipboard. "Now, Mister Mustang, I understand you are a… Colonel in our military, receiving the promotion from Lieutenant Colonel three months ago, is that correct?" "Yes sir, it is."

The man wrote another note down.

"Now, would you mind explaining to me your role in our military?" Roy exhaled softly. "Yes, sir. It is my position to maintain and direct orders to my subordinates as determined by my own superiors' orders. I am not, however, responsible for how my soldiers' instincts maybe cause them to act in the case of a battle. Normally we are inside Eastern Command, filing paperwork and taking on missions requiring specialist force such as a siege or… As was the case recently… To take out enemies who bode a terroristic threat to the people. I also personally have close links to the investigations department and my closest friend is actually on of the commanders in Central's Investigations Bureau."

Roy paused, allowing the man to finish writing whatever cryptic note he decided should be taken. "A commander at C.I.B.? Would you mind telling me who?" Roy frowned. "Yes, but he was not involved in…_ whatever_ this mess today was… His name is Maes Hughes, Major." The investigator looked up in surprise. "Oh, I know Hughes, that guy with the glasses who parades photos of his daughter, right?" Roy smiled fondly. "Yes, that's the one."

The man smiled as he wrote down another observation. "He's a good man, loves his family." Roy nodded. "Unfortunately, I usually end up babysitting his daughter whenever I go and visit instead of going out for a drink. But then again I guess it is an appropriate trade for all the help he gives me concerning cases." The man looked up. "You babysit his daughter?" Roy nodded, confirming the question.

The man tilted one of his shoulders as he leaned forward onto the table. He put down his pen and board and rested his hands under his chin, his fingers folded. He stared sternly at Roy.

"Have you ever gotten angry at her, then?"

Roy blinked in surprise. "Well no, she's an incredibly well-behaved child, especially for her age! I've only ever had one tough time looking after her, but she wasn't feeling well and so that can be chalked off as an upset belly. Even then, she only threw a typical tantrum and I asked her to go to her room and if she wanted me to call her parents for her. She was very kind after that and even said sorry as I left! She's only three years old and already she is as polite as can be!"

The man continued analyzing Roy, and his gaze burned deep into the colonel's soul. "So you've never had to discipline her?" Roy straightened in his seat. "No, nor do I think I could bring myself to, as Elicia is not my child. Why do you ask?" The man jotted another note down on his paper. "Mister Mustang, I believe I am supposed to be the one asking questions here." Roy set his jaw.

This was not going well.

"So, your orders were for you to take down this alleged serial killer, correct?" "Yes, sir." "Did you have any affiliation with the culprit before today?" "No, sir." "How did you take down the culprit?"

Roy looked down at his hands and watched the sweat slowly roll down his palms. He could hear the blood pounding through his veins and his stomach lurched slightly. He swallowed, his throat drying.

"I didn't, sir. He attacked me and I tried to fight him off. Next thing I knew I was being restrained by my men and he was dead." "So it was like you blacked out?" Roy shook his head and shut his eyes. The pounding was becoming increasingly painful, but he continued. "No, but sir, I am trying so hard to remember what happened! If I were guilty of this crime I would just accept it as I know our legal system's laws well. But I don't believe I did! There was no sense of memory lapse, no sense of time passing, nothing at all like what happens with a fainting spell. Coming into this room even was strange as I don't remember closing my eyes but then I was being awoken to be brought here and it was… Nighttime… I just… I… Uh… I don't know…"

Roy brought his hands up to his head and rested his forehead against the wooden restraints. The investigator watched as sweat dripped from Roy's chin onto the table. He took some more notes.

Denial.

Feverish.

Sincere worry heard in his voice.

Eyes steady and yet fearful.

Pulse looks to be rising.

Rapid breathing.

The man looked back up and his eyes widened. Roy was now gasping for air with his face pressed hard against the table. "H-help me… Please… Something is… Wrong with me…!" Roy stammered, his tongue lolling in and out of his mouth as he spoke. "Do you need water? Fresh air?" Roy stood up, his chair falling to the floor with a dissonant ring. The investigator remained seated, though noticeably offset. "Mister Mustang?"

Roy wobbled on his feet, his knees shaking as though in a strong wind. He staggered over to the mirror that made up the majority of one of the walls. He stared at his reflection, knowing there were policemen watching him through it. He cried out.

"PLEASE HELP ME! SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH ME! I NE—URGH! GRAAUGH!" he garbled, vomit escaping his throat. He leaned against the mirror as his stomach emptied itself onto the floor. Roy stared in horror at the sight.

Blood splattered everywhere, mixed in with it were chunks of meat and skin, some hair even visible in the bile. Roy screamed and ran backward away from the mess.

"NO! NOOOOOO!" he screamed, shaking his head and subsequently sending splatters of blood and vomit around the room. "NO, THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE! I DIDN'T DO IT! I KNOW I DIDN'T! I COULDN'T HAVE—I COULDN'T! SOMEONE, PLEASE, MAKE THIS STOP!" He tumbled back over the fallen chair and his body came crashing down onto the tile floor. The interrogator rose from his seat and hurried over to the fallen man.

Roy gasped for air and his eyes welled up. "But I didn't do it…! I know I didn't!" He turned to the detective. "I'M NOT A CANNIBAL!"

The man froze, his eyes clearly showing his analysis of the situation. He returned to his feet and walked back to the door that was now being unlocked. "I'm sorry, Colonel Mustang, but I believe what's done is done. Good luck," he muttered in Roy's direction. Roy pushed himself to his knees.

"P…Please, you have to believe me…!"

"No. I don't. Not anymore, at least." The man turned and left as policemen came in to grab Roy. He began heading down the hallway with a security guard as Roy fought fruitlessly against the cops. He paused when he could hear Roy howl with anguish at the batons that rained down on his head.

"WILL SOMEONE—ANYONE—HELP ME!? PLEEEEEEEASE!"

The man turned around and stared at the open doorway and readjusted his glasses.

"And to think I was actually starting to believe him… Just goes to show how far some freaks will go to try and prove their innocence."


	3. Murder, Murder

Roy leaned against the shower tiles, his back heaving. He watched the blood swirl down into the drain and felt his rage boil inside of him. "NOOOO!" he bellowed, punching the shower wall, hissing at the pain he unintentionally inflicted on himself. _Clickity-snick._

"MMMMMMMPPH!" he moaned through barred teeth, slinking down to the shower floor. He brought his hand back up and tried to flex it, the pain excruciating, but there was movement. Roy let out a shaky breath as he wrapped his hands around his neck.

"Why is this happening to me…?!" he whimpered.

He watched the blood wash away from the tiles and felt his stomach twist at the memory of his retching. He had no idea how he could have barfed up all that meat—let alone all that blood! As if the sheer horror of it all weren't enough, the policemen had stormed in and tried to restrain him even more. Of course his instincts had kicked in and he tried to get away from the pain, but the officers proceeded to beat him with their clubs to subdue him to the point that they could throw him in an isolation cell.

Another two skips occurred as well.

The first was right after he was beaten; he was suddenly locked inside the cell and he had bloodied his knuckles from apparently punching the steel door repeatedly. His throat was aching and parched and he deduced that he must have screamed like hell. But still, he had no concept of time nor memory of any of these events happening, only the beating and then standing in the middle of an empty room with pained throat and knuckles.

He stayed in that room for what must have been a day, even if he had dozed off or had a lapse in that time he had remained. As his next skip occurred a few hours later and it was sunset, he found himself becoming more and more frightened of what was happening to him. There were scratches along the walls and horrid, cruel jabs were written alongside cryptic symbols and images. Most if not all of the hateful insults were directed towards himself and it was only when the officers came to tell him he was to take a shower that he came out from under his bed (which he was using as a precaution as to not attack anyone.

Roy crawled over to the corner of the shower where only his toes were sprayed with the water and he brought his knees to his chest. He wasn't about to cry but damn if he didn't feel like it.

His wet hair let down droplets of water onto his cheeks, trailing down his jaw to his chin.

Drip…

Drip…

Dri-drip…

Drip…

He sniffed loudly and wiped his face with his forearm. He stood back up and shook his hair one last time in the jet of water before turning the faucet off. He shook his head wildly, water thrown everywhere. He grabbed the towel outside on the wooden shelf. He wrapped it around his waist and ran his fingers through his bangs, squeezing the water out of them. He walked over to the sink and mirror and froze.

He let his hand drop down to his side as he headed forward towards the mirror. He leaned on the sink and stared into his own face. He furrowed his brows and felt his throat dry.

He looked as though he hadn't slept in days and the stubble grew prickly on his jawline. His eyes were red and dry and his tongue and gums were somewhat white in color. He rubbed his eyes roughly. He leaned in close to the glass and he glared at his image.

"Come on, Roy, why are you doing this…" he pondered aloud, under his breath.

"_Maybe because a sorry sack of shit like you needs to learn a lesson," _his reflection mouthed to the voice.

Roy jumped at the answer and hurried to ready himself for an attacker. "Who's there?" he asked, humility taking over. _"Heh, you're really a dumbass, you know that, Roy?"_ Roy grit his teeth and stuck his head out from behind the wall to confront the rude man in the shower but paused when he saw he was all alone in the room.

"QUIT HIDING! SHOW YOURSELF, BASTARD!" Roy shouted, his voice echoing dissonantly in the shower room. _"But I'm right here, dumbass."_ Roy whipped his head around and looked around the room frantically.

"_Nope! Over here~"_

Roy put his hands to his head. The alien voice was so clear and deafening. "SHUT UP!" he shouted, his voice strained.

"_Oh, but that would be no fun! I haven't had the chance to talk to you yet either you asshole."_

"I DON'T CARE! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

_"Ah! So rude and disrespectful! One shouldn't treat themselves so cruelly, ya know."_

Roy ran to the mirror and turned on the faucet. He splashed the water up onto his face and he stood gasping at the sink. His head was pounding like a jackhammer. His knees were shaking. He felt sweat glisten on his skin despite the room being chilled enough for goosebumps to form. His heart raced.

He looked up slowly at the mirror and stared into his reflection. His pupils were pulled so tightly that his irises were no longer the dull blackish tint that they usually seemed and they were now a dark blue, their straining pulling the colorful muscles tighter and tighter. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head wildly. He felt his center of gravity shift suddenly and he wobbled on his feet, holding himself up by his upper arm strength against the sink.

He felt his world swirl around him and he shut his eyes.

"_**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIII!" **_

"_**OH MY GOD!"**_

"_**NO, NO, PLEASE, STOP IT! STOP IT! GOD HAVE MERCYYYYYY!"**_

Roy gasped and his grip on the sink slipped, sending him down to the floor with a thud. He crawled weakly to the wall and hugged it tightly. "W-WHAT THE HELL!?" he shrieked. He looked at the room and felt his head spin as the room swirled and warped and slowly became red in tint. Screams began to echo in Roy's head as though he were in a great music hall.

"_Do you like my taste in music, Roy?"_

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" Roy cried out, pushing himself farther against the wall.

_"I'm you, my friend, can't you see?"_

"NO! YOU AREN'T ME!" Roy howled. He pushed himself to his feet and hobbled to the mirror again, hoping to wash his eyes clean of whatever was messing with them. He stuck his hands under the water and splashed himself with the liquid, repeating the action three or so times before freezing. He brought his hands away from his face and stared at his palms.

They were sticky and shimmering with blood. Roy gagged as he felt the fluid ooze down his face and he shoved his head under the faucet, but he sputtered and yelped as he felt warm, thick blood pour over his head. He pulled back and gazed in horror as the sink filled with the red-black substance. Roy moaned as he tried to turn the faucet off, but still the blood gushed from the pipes. The shower turned on suddenly and the floor began to flood with bile and bloodied bits.

"GOD—SOMEBODY HELP ME!" Roy screamed madly. He beat his hands against the door, but to his horror the door was gone, and he was instead beating only a tile wall. He turned his back to the wall and breathed heavily. He looked around frantically for an exit but he froze when he saw the mirror.

His reflection was staring back at him.

It smiled.

It waved.

It flipped him off as its eyes rolled back into its head and blood began dribbling out of the sockets.

"OH MY GOD OH GOD OH GOAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!" Roy cried, covering his mouth. He watched in true fear as the reflection began beating on the mirror, the thumps loud and clear. The glass started to crack and shatter.

The mirror broke, shattered, and fell into the rising blood. A body fell from the mirror into the red liquid and it bubbled under the surface. It raised itself to its feet and stared deeply into Roy's soul, the mirror-like eyes piercing Roy's own.

Roy flung himself back against the wall and beat on it with greater ferocity.

"HELP ME! PLEASE, GOD, HELP!"

"_Roy, Roy, Roy… You know that he gave up on you loooooooooong ago~"_ the copy cooed darkly.

The demon rushed out towards the man and his hands tightened on his throat.

"N-no…! Hghh…!" Roy garbled, his air being squeezed out of him. He could feel the man's grip crushing his windpipe and he kicked and pulled and bit to be free. He felt himself being lifted from the ground and he kicked his legs wildly, sending waves of blood and bits every which way. He pulled his leg back and kicked at the demon's chest, a deep 'oomph!' confirming its hit.

Roy fell to the ground, his lungs filling with hemoglobin and bile as he splashed to the tile floor. He pushed himself upwards and looked around wearily for the satanic creature, the red ooze slowly rising to his rib cage. The hair of his copy poked out from the fluid in front of him and Roy seized his opportunity.

He grabbed the ink-colored locks and pulled them upwards out of the pond. He slammed the familiar face into the tile with a crack! He pulled the head back and slammed it back into the tile. The blood ceased rising and instead began to fall back into the shower drain. The tiles began to crack and fall apart as Roy continued beating the demon against them.

"NO!MORE!GAMES!YOU!FILTHY!STINKING!PIECE!OF!PIG!SHIT!" he cursed wildly, the blood from the cracked skull splattering against him. Even as the world began to lose its red haze and the room ceased swirling, Roy beat his evil twin into the wall. Drool fell from his mouth and sweat flew through the air as he screamed. The demon of a man no longer fought back and was instead limp in Roy's grasp.

Roy held the man against the wall tightly as he tried to regain his breathing. He let the hair slip from his hands and the body fell to the now only slightly pooled floor, the blood coming only from the now dead attacker. Roy closed his eyes and gasped for breath. He turned his back to the wall and rested his head against the cool tile.

"It's over… You… Bastard…" he wheezed.

_"Oh, you only think that."_

Roy's eyes shot open and he stared in horror at the shattered mirror. A single piece remained and Roy's double was grinning devilishly back at him through it. Roy howled as he lunged for the glass. He grabbed the shard and yanked it out of the wall. He threw it to the ground and it shattered into tiny shards.

He stood panting, his hand sliced by the glass and feet bleeding with embedded glass and tile, as he tried to steady his racing heart rate.

"_I'm still here, Roy,"_ the voice called out.

Roy grabbed his head and screamed.

"GET OUT! GETOUTGETOUTGETOUTGETOUT!" He heard footsteps running toward him from down the hall and he felt his heart skip a beat in jubilation. He looked up toward the door and he smiled.

Until, that is, he saw that the body had actually been real.

He stared at the dead man and dread began to chill him to the bone. He hadn't killed his evil other self…

He had killed an officer.

He had bashed in his brains.

He murdered him.

Roy's heart quickened its pace and he could feel his lungs thicken with air, which weighed him down like lead. He could barely stand any longer and he slumped down to the floor and sat staring at the body. _"You really did a number on him, Roy! I'm very impressed!" _Roy whimpered and held his arms to his head, trying to block out the insidious voice.

His breaths shuddered and he felt himself finally give in to his emotions. Tears welled over his lids and down his blood-splattered face and he let himself fall to his side. The glass cut deep into his skin, the stinging only adding to the torment Roy found himself thrown into. He could hear the horrified gasps of the other officers and he felt his jaw quiver. He could no longer hold back his cries and gave in to the call.

He wailed, so loud that it echoed throughout the rest of the building, and so terribly that his body shook with pure emotion. The policemen ran toward him with Billy clubs ready, but Roy was so broken that he could not so much as raise his arms in defense when the blows rained down upon him.

He cried out at the dead body of the man who's life he unknowingly ended.

He cried out at the painful blows he felt rain against his naked body.

A defining blow hit him across his skull and then, like the snapping of twig, Roy was out cold.

* * *

Roy groaned, his eyes still squeezed shut. His lungs ached and his mind was reeling at his regained consciousness. Opening one eye, Roy looked out upon his surroundings.

He was moving.

Backwards.

On his back.

Through a brightly-lit hallway.

He closed his eye and he tried to wade his way back into intelligent thought.

_I'm… Moving backwards… Through a bright fucking hallway… On my back… I'm moving… WAIT—I'M MOVING!? _Roy's eyes shot open and he leaned his head back to look where he was going. He found that he was bound in a uniform of some kind and he couldn't move very well in it. He looked up and saw that a rather large security officer was pulling along the dolly that Roy was strapped to with a single arm.

Roy swallowed and turned back around. He looked down at himself and saw that the uniform he was in was actually a very white, very tight, buckled jacket. His heart grew heavy as he remembered the murder and he let his head fall back against the dolly. "Oh… Oh God…" he muttered under raspy breaths. The large man looked down at Roy and frowned. "I see that that club didn't beat you enough for you to stay out longer than a day, huh, Colonel Mustang?"

Roy turned back around to look at his carrier.

"W… What do you mean…?" he asked worriedly. The man scoffed lightheartedly. "Don't take it to heart, little Roy, sometimes the best of us snap. Unfortunately, it seems you've snapped more than just a couple of times." Roy furrowed his brows in confusion. "No… I don't understand… What do you mean?" The guard did not answer and instead pulled Roy along, noticeably faster.

Roy looked to his right as they moved down the hallway, his brain still not working at 100%, and he could only watch as they passed by many a plethora of cells. Some had people, some did not, but all of them were much cleaner and barer than the prison cells Roy had seen previous. The man opened a large steel door and wheeled Roy through it before entering himself. He locked it behind himself and he proceeded to continue dragging Roy through the facility.

Things were so different already.

Almost all of the cells had people in them, and there were even some prisoners walking about, talking to each other. When Roy was wheeled past them, he could see that they were not in prison clothing, but rather, they looked to be wearing hospital attire. He still had a dull pain in his head as he tried to process this information, but yet another door was to be opened and passed through.

And as they entered the final ring of cells, Roy finally understood where he was.

He was in an insane asylum.

He hit his head against the metal cart and gritted his teeth. "Damn it…" he hissed quietly. "You finally come around to seeing where you are, Roy?" the burly man asked, his voice warm and yet stern. Roy nodded regretfully and he turned his head back to his right and watched as they passed by padded cell after padded cell after padded cell. Screams and howls of the mentally unwell chilled Roy with their hauntingly human calls. Roy felt the dolly stop and he watched as the man undid a lock, which led to a padlock, which finally led to a large metal beam that held the cell back from the rest of the world. Roy gulped as he was led into the strange cotton-covered room. He felt his body fall forward as the man undid what simple bindings had held Roy to the metal transport. He hurried back through the door with the carriage and began relocking the door.

Roy pushed himself up to his knees with his legs and forehead, his arms restrained by paradox sleeves. He looked up at the barred window of the door and he watched the man shrug sadly as he began walking off. Roy looked around his new cell.

He was alone now, save for the haunting cries of the ill-minded and the afflicted. The walls, floor, and even ceiling were padded with foam-filled cotton squares. The only light came from the door window, but it was bright enough that it lit the entire room. Roy struggled to push himself to his feet, the soft ground shifting ever so slightly with his weight. He hobbled over to the back right corner and slid down the padded wall to the ground.

He felt sick. Sick with disgust. Sick with anger. Sick with life. He rolled over to his side and then to his back. He was so very uncomfortable now with his arms bound to his sides. He moved himself backwards into the corner and he stared at the strange quilt ceiling as he felt the pain beckon him back into sleep.

Blink.

The white room faded to grey.

Blink.

Thee grey room faded to gray.

Blink.

The gray room faded to black.


	4. Up to Speed

**A/N. Okay, I should probably clarify that there are no pairings in this fic other than possibly _PARENTAL!EdRoy_ (as Roy is having a bit of a hard time he needs some TLC) The reason the summary has Edward listed is because this fanfic has both Roy and Edward as main characters, even though some others will be important to the story as well. Just wanting to clear that up as Edward is now entering the story. Thanks for all the kind reviews and feedback! Love y'all! (_okay back to the crazy shit..._)**

* * *

The beaten beige suitcase swung heavily from its owner's automail arm, threatening to knock any passerby to the ground if they crossed its path. The boy's feet tread rhythmically on the stone walkway and rang out as they passed over a sewage grate. A light breeze blew against his face and he tossed his head gently to remove his brilliant golden hair from his face. The sun was warm, the breeze cool, and the first chirps of baby birds sang out in the park parallel to the boy and the massive iron armor walking next to him.

The teen frowned as they passed a busy intersection, their destination now visible above the rooftops of the apartment homes. "Well, there's headquarters! I wonder how everyone is?" the armor asked lightly, his voice young and sweet. The sun-haired boy scoffed. "Probably the same as always; Bastard slacking off, Hawkeye threatening everyone with her gun, Havoc smoking, Breda eating, Falman freaking out, Fuery fixing some old machine crap and their little pet running around biting documents and boots," he joked, waving his flesh hand around in a circle. "Same as usual."

The brothers walked along the now paved sidewalk, nearing the military facility with every stride. They slowed as a car started up to their right and they waited for it to cross. It pulled up next to them instead, and a rather attractive (but naïve-looking) blonde man rolled down his window. "Heya, Ed. Al."

"2nd Lieutenant Havoc! I would have thought you'd be on duty right now?" the blonde asked, walking toward the car with a smirk. The spike-haired man grew solemn and he removed the cigarette from his mouth. "Boys, I'm going to have to ask you to get in the car. I'm taking you to Hawkeye's place." He unlocked the doors and rolled his window back up. The boys exchanged worried looks before climbing into the vehicle.

Havoc put the cigarette back in his mouth and he pulled the car out of park and started to drive back into the street. He groaned as he stretched his shoulders, reclining into his seat. Edward bit his lip out of anxiety. "So… Why are we going to the lieutenant's house? Is there some sort of sickness at HQ or something?" Havoc exhaled and the smoke left his nose like some great fog from a dragon. He shook his head.

"No, but we all wish that were the case. I wasn't at the scene like Hawkeye was, so I can't really give you the proper information. We'll be there in about four minutes though so I think you can wait that long…" he said, his tobacco jumping up and down between his teeth. He rotated the wheel and they headed left down a housing district. "She'll explain everything once we get there."

Edward looked to the armor that was his younger brother and shrugged with a raised brow. The armor returned the shrug and the three sat in silence. Edward looked out the window and watched the world outside rush by.

He had never been to the Lieutenant's house before. He thought it silly, but he wondered what it looked like. What color was the paint? Was it one floor or two or even three? Was there a garden, or did she consider the idea too feminine? He blinked. Why should any of this matter to him?

_Maybe it's because she actually has a house…_

Havoc slowed and pulled the car in to park. "Here we are, boys. C'mon." Edward and Alphonse exited the vehicle and followed the uniformed man to the front steps of what was apparently the lieutenant's home. Edward looked around as they waited for her to answer the doorknocker. He noted that it was actually an apartment, but it was well-kept; with red brick, iron windowsills, and some ivy growing from one of the flower boxes. He heard the door unlock and returned his attention to the situation.

Riza Hawkeye opened the door slowly, her hair down and somewhat messy, though not terribly so, and she wore a white silk robe over her pale blue pajamas. She smiled sadly. "Hello, boys, it's good to see you again. I hope your last excursion wasn't too much of a hassle?" Edward smiled sheepishly. "N-no, no, it wasn't too bad. A little bit of a fight here and there but nothing we couldn't handle!" he joked, waving his hand around.

She nodded warmly and then turned to her subordinate. "Would you like a cup of coffee, Havoc?" He shook his head, but he smiled. "Thanks, but no thanks. We're all busy at the office as you… know…" he trailed off solemnly, both officers looking downwards in dread. The woman turned to the teen and opened her door fully to let them enter. "Well, thanks for stopping by anyway, 2nd Lieutenant." The man nodded before leaving to go back to the car.

Riza watched him drive away before closing the door. She turned to look at the boys again, seeing Edward playfully petting her almost grown shiba puppy. She sighed through her nose and began walking over to her living room, Black Hayate barking playfully and he trailed behind her, trying to nip at her heels. She sat down and Hayate jumped up on the couch next to her and lay down. He yawned and rested his head on his paws, his ears falling back against his head tiredly.

The brothers took their seats across the coffee table and they sat respectfully in their chairs as they waited for Hawkeye to explain. Riza leaned back and rubbed her eyes of what was presumed the remnants of sleep. She took a deep breath before pulling herself back forward to talk to the boys.

"Are you two aware of what has happened, or are you not?" Edward swallowed before shaking his head. "No, we have no idea what you're talking about. We just got back in East City this afternoon." Riza nodded sadly before reaching for an envelope of documents that were next to her coffee mug. She opened it and began laying papers down (faces down) on the table between herself and the brothers. "Colonel Mustang was… Assigned a mission in which he was to dispose of a serial killer who has taken many victims. The location we traced the killer to was this abandoned brick factory," she explained as she pulled out a small packet of photos bound by a rubber band. She handed them to Edward as she finished emptying the manila folder.

Edward began flipping through the photos, trying to take in the enormous scale that the facility was. "As we didn't know exactly where in the building our target was, a siege was put into order, a team going in from above, the right, left, front, and behind of the building. This was to draw attention away from when our-… The colonel's team… Went in from the entrance." Edward began reaching for another document, but Riza held her hand up for him to stop. "Not yet."

He leaned back confused but he obeyed her command. She folded her arms under her bust as she continued. "There were accomplices—which is odd for a serial killer—but we were prepared for an attack anyway. The colonel ran off to try and find the target, but his orders were to allow for us to protect him at all times. You know how stubborn he is…" Ed nodded with a tiny smirk.

The lieutenant suddenly grew very cold in her speech. "We found a passageway and as we were heading down it, the lights went out. After we lit our lantern, we could hear someone's footsteps running away. Colonel Mustang chased after them, leaving us behind. We couldn't see where he had gone or could even hear his footsteps anymore. We did however, hear a door slam, but even that was so distorted because of all of the echoing in that passage." She began rubbing her face, her forehead wrinkling despite her young age.

"Our team managed to find the door the colonel had broken down and when we reached it we heard him screaming. We tried to find him in this room," she handed him a stack of photos, frowning. "But we couldn't. It turned out that he was actually in the next room through the vent…" she trailed off.

Edward was looking at the photos with his hand over his mouth and his eyes were wide with horror. The room was covered in blood splatters and meat and bones were organized crudely into different areas. The tags tied around the slabs of meat read: male, 37, fat; female, 7, thin; female, 22, fat, and Edward felt his chest clench with disgust. "Oh my God…" he groaned behind his hand.

He put the photos down and swallowed, his throat thick. Riza sighed. "It only gets worse from here, I'm afraid." Edward moaned with contempt. "OH GOODIE." Alphonse nudged his brother's arm. "Ed…" Edward looked up and saw that the woman was very nervous, a cold sweat forming on her forehead. "Uh… Lieutenant? You okay?" he asked worriedly.

She shook her head.

"When we saw the vent, I went in it to try and find him, but…" She leaned forward with her bangs hanging over her face, hiding it from the boys. Edward watched as her back shuddered ever so slightly and she wiped her eyes with her arm. She pulled herself back and she took a deep breath. Her eyes were pink.

"The colonel… Was hunched over the target and there was blood… Everywhere. All over him, all over the floor, and… And…!" she stammered before burying her face in her hands. "Oh God—why did he do it!? Why why why!?" she cried, her normally low voice breaking and squeaking as tears began falling from her eyes. The brothers both stood up in shock and they looked at each other frantically.

They had never seen the lieutenant cry, let alone sob.

She sniffed loudly as she pointed to the next stack of photos, motioning for Edward to look at them. He hesitantly picked up the stack and began looking at the pictures. He stared in silence at the first photo, his expression completely void of recognition.

"This… No. No this can't be real," he remarked, his voice low and quiet.

The photo was of the colonel; he was handcuffed—his eyes wide and seemingly fearful, and he was covered in blood, the majority of it coming from his mouth and neck. He didn't seem injured and so one could only draw the conclusion that he had been biting something bloody. He was being held down from the shoulders by a soldier who kept a gun in his left hand ready for any wrong move Roy could've made.

Ed flipped to the next photo. He felt himself gag at the sight. A man—looking to be middle-aged—lay on the stone floor, his middle section torn open and entrails sprawled across the floor. Bite marks and burns could be seen around his face and neck, and Roy's ignition glove lay limp in the man's exposed ribcage.

"Oh my God…"

He turned to Riza, and then looked back down at the photos. The stack was of at least twelve other scenes, but he could feel his knees weaken at the thought of seeing more gore and disgraceful imagery. "Lieutenant Hawkeye… If this is some sort of sick joke…" he muttered. She looked up with tears scaring her face. "DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I'D JOKE OF THIS!?" Edward stared deeply into her chestnut eyes before looking away in disbelief.

He took a deep breath and proceeded to flip through the rest of the photos, spending only as much time as was needed for each one.

Bite marks.

Broken ribcage.

Missing heart and bitten-off lung.

Detail shot of missing heart.

Full-body photo of the victim.

Close-up on Roy's glove—singed.

Transmutation circle under victim.

Detail shot of circle.

Shot of Roy looking confused at the camera.

Shot of Roy being pat-down for weapons.

Shot of Roy inside the police vehicle.

Mug-shot of Roy.

Edward held on to the police photo of the man, something seeming off. He sat the other photos down and analyzed the mug-shot. Roy was smiling, his eyelids ever so slightly drooping. His head was tilted to the right and his pupils were dilated so much so that his eyes appeared black, even though the camera flash was bright and gave him a sort of pale glow. He was holding the prison number calmly and comfortably.

"Has Mustang ever been convicted of anything? Ever?" Ed asked, his voice concerned. Riza shook her head. "The closest he's ever gotten was a restraining order. And that was from you two years ago because you thought he was 'being a complete pain in the arse.'" Edward could feel a twang of humility. "I-I was thirteen! I was dumb… Besides, the point is that this is the first time he's ever done anything against the law?" Riza rubbed her arm. "Well…" Edward raised a brow.

"Well, the first that he's ever done something illegal to _another_ person."

Edward leaned back in surprise. Alphonse in contrast leaned in for more information. "So wait, Colonel Mustang is a felon!?" Riza shook her head. "No, he's… He wasn't. The illegal things he's done in the past have been things like covert affairs and secret missions I am not at liberty to discuss, even with him out of the picture so to speak…" Edward nodded. "So, is he at the same prison or did they mo—"

"He's in the Eastern Isle Asylum for the Mentally Ailed."

The brothers gawked. "A-asylum?! Like, for bat shit crazy people!?" Ed asked with a high voice. The woman nodded. "Apparently, he had fits of dementia and physical outbursts while at the prison… And he…" she inhaled slowly. "He brutally murdered one of the guards while he was to be in the shower room."

"B… Brutally murdered?" Al stammered. Edward's throat turned dry. "So he really _was_ the one responsible for that guy from the factory?" Riza nodded. "I saw him… His face was in the man's chest and he was eating and… Drinking the blood and…" she gagged, covering her mouth to keep herself from retching.

"A-and I don't have photos of the guard's death—thank God—but from the reports say, the colonel used the doorframe as his weapon and bashed the man's head in by repeatedly smashing him into the corner. What happened after both attacks is what's really unsettling though…" Edward's ears perked.

The sniper grabbed a couple of grey documents and handed them to the young alchemist. "After both attacks, the factory and the jail, the colonel seemed in a cloud of confusion. Asking questions like 'What's going on?' and 'Wait, what did I do?' But after the guard's death the report says he was found across the room naked on the remains of the bathroom mirror sobbing. The guards say he had a piece of glass in his hand and so they beat him till he dropped it as to assure everyone's safety. Unfortunately, they apparently had a misfire and hit him in the head, knocking him out."

Edward exhaled slowly through his nose. He read over the report, taking about two moments to complete them, and then set them back down and he rubbed his temples. "I just don't get it! Why would Colonel Bastard do anything like this?! It's not at all like him!" He looked to the woman and she was shaking her head solemnly. "I wish I knew, Edward. The colonel and I have known each other since long before the military, and never did he ever show any signs of mental illness. Not in adulthood nor in his youth." Edward stared at her as she sat silently. He was not comfortable with the situation, nor the topic, so he deemed it best to try and change the mood.

Edward smirked devilishly. "Ooh~ since his youth? So were you two like an item or something?" he jeered. Riza shut her eyes and grit her teeth. "DO NOT INSINUATE ANYTHING, EDWARD. YOU ARE GETTING OFF-TOPIC." He raised his hands defensively. "Okay, okay! Jeez…" Edward recoiled. _So much for that plan..._ Hawkeye huffed and scratched her head right behind her forehead. "The asylum only allows one visitor per morning and afternoon. The team and I were discussing on who should try and talk with him and when. It was pretty unanimous that you should see him most often."

"W-why me!? What if he snaps and tries to rip my face off!?" Ed objected. Riza glowered and continued. "Edward, regardless if he 'snapped' (she gave air quotations) he wouldn't be able to harm you at all. The facility is very strict and is one of the best mental health hospitals this side of central." Edward rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, I'm sure it is. But what if he tries to gouge my eyes out or something?"

Riza groaned and leaned forward, her face in her hands. "He'd be in a straight jacket, Edward. Even if he tried to he'd just be struggling against himself." Edward inhaled to begin speaking but Riza commented before he could, "And before you ask, no, he'd be wearing a human muzzle, so he wouldn't be able to bite you either." Edward exhaled what would have been his next objection.

"Well, why don't you go visit him?" Riza sighed and looked down to her left at nothing. "I will be visiting now and then, but with the office work that will be piling up soon, I won't be able to as often as you can. I also… Can't yet… Not yet…"

Edward moaned and let his head hang back over the back of the seat and the three of them sat in silence.

"Fine."

Alphonse and Hawkeye both turned to the teen and an air of relief seemed to wash over the room. "But," Ed clarified, "I'm not visiting both mornings and afternoons, that'd be way too much!" "Of course," Riza agreed. "And if I'm gonna be seeing the bastard a lot then I'm going to be taking a book or the case files or hell a rubber band because he'll get boring quick!" Riza rolled her eyes but she nodded. Edward opened his mouth to say more but the soldier cut him off, "OKAY. Do whatever you like, as long as you can ease some info out of him. We'll need it for his court case… If he's even sane enough for one."

Edward nodded, a fake smile plastered on his face. He looked down at the photographs and stared at Roy's face.

He looked so scared, all covered in blood and sweat.

Edward began returning the files and photos to the folder and he clasped it shut. "So, when do I start visiting the loon?" Riza shrugged. "He's been there for a couple of days, so you should be able to see him starting tomorrow. Will you be visiting him morning or afternoon?" Edward thought over it and then responded with, "Morning. Wanna get him when he's still groggy. Maybe I can get more info out of him then." Riza nodded and began to show the boys to the door, her dog following behind her.

Edward held the folder tightly to his side and he saluted as they left her house. She waved them goodbye and closed the door. The brothers stood silently in the evening sun. "I can't believe the colonel went nuts…" Alphonse said under his non-existent breath. Edward looked down at the folder and watched his automail fingers tremble lightly. "Yeah…"

_Tomorrow_, he thought, _tomorrow is when the games begin._


	5. Unease

Roy lay on his back, his body supported by the soft cushions of his cell. He hated the asylum. He hated the overly-kind physicians. He hated the slightly cool, but not unpleasant air temperature. He hated the other patients what with their moans and screams and occasional fits of laughter. He hated the food. He hated his comfy cell. He hated his warm straight jacket. He hated his tiny beard that had begun to grow. He hated his skips. He hated everything.

He stared at his padded ceiling and began clicking his tongue in what he hoped was an accurate mimicry of a clock. He stopped clicking his tongue and groaned, rolling onto his stomach. He lay with his chin propped on the cushions and he pouted at the wall in front of him. He began kicking his legs slowly, not unlike a restless toddler. He beat them hard against the floor as he began grunting angrily. He pushed himself to his feet via his forehead and knees and he began pacing around the room.

It had been five days since he arrived at the institution and time had not been a friend to him. He wanted to get out and do something. To do… Something! To run, to play with a baseball, to fold paper airplanes, to do push-ups, hell—_filing taxes_ sounded like a day at the fair compared to his boring cell! He looked at the cell window and waited to make sure no one was there. He paused. What did it matter? He was already in an asylum, so they clearly thought he was mad already. He began jumping up and down, trying to keep his body busy. He started to do jumping-jacks, but stopped when he felt his jacket tug at his arms. He sighed. He looked at the window again and watched, waiting.

No one appeared to be nearby.

He started to jog, his balance very poor due to the pillow-like floor of the cell. He ran for a few minutes before slowing to a stop. He slumped down the cotton wall and tried to regain his breathing, even though he only had the slightest beads of sweat on his back. He couldn't go running around all the time, no matter how much he wanted to. His only chance for water was during meals, and breakfast had been roughly an hour before. He brought his knees up to his chest and he rested his head against them.

"I'm sick of all this…" he said to no one in particular.

_Oh, that's too bad, Roy! I would've thought you'd loooooove the posh life here!_

"Shut the fuck up."

_Awe! Now that was just rude. You shouldn't treat yourself so poorly, you know._

"I said shut up. You aren't me…" Roy mumbled into his knees. "Just leave me alone."

"Well, damn, if I'd known you'd be such a stick in the mud I'd have just stayed home!"

Roy's head jerked upwards. He stared at the wall in front of him before slowly turning to his right. He could see, just barely, the blonde hair of what appeared to be a girl (as the hair was pulled tightly downward). He recognized the voice however, and he knew for a fact that the hair belonged to no girl.

The door was unlocked and a guard entered the cell, carrying the muzzle that Roy had to wear when he was taken to another room, but he paid no mind to the man putting the restraint on him, as his attention was focused on the boy standing in the doorway.

"F… Fullmetal…!?" he stammered, his voice croaked from lack of use. Edward smirked. "Long time no see Colonel Bastard." He nodded to the guard as he entered the cell and the guard exited the room. He locked the door with only the bar, leaving Edward and Roy alone in the room.

Roy gawked at the teen. "Fullmetal… What on earth…?" Edward frowned. "I'm here to talk, and I will be coming here to talk for some time, as you've gotten yourself in quite the situation, Mustang." Roy shook his head with a smile. "I don't care about that! I'm just glad you actually came to see me!" His voice was pleading and sincere, and Edward felt his chest clench with sorrow.

"Has… No one else visited you yet? I know some of the others will eventually but they're just really busy right now…" Roy shook his head with a frown. "No, you're the first familiar face I've seen in a long time." He paused. "How long has it been?" Edward blinked. "What do you mean?" Roy leaned forward, his muzzle moving as he swallowed. "I mean… Since the mission?"

Edward looked down at the files he held in his hand and he frowned. "It's been around 9 days today." Roy groaned and he let his head fall hard against the wall, startling the teen. "No, see?" he beat his head against the wall, the sound loud but the man seemed unfazed, "Like a pillow." Edward chuckled nervously as he approached the man.

Roy came to the assumption that he was being very rude for sitting during such a reunion and he began trying to stand up. Edward watched, his face becoming the very mask of sadness, as the man pushed himself to his feet by forcing his rear into the air while his head remained planted firmly on the floor. He staggered as he stood, his weight uneven on the floor. "S-sorry. I just figured…" he started, but trailed off as he had nothing to continue with.

Edward shook his head. "No, it's fine. I figured you have nothing to do but sit around all day so if you want to stand while we talk, that's fine." Roy smiled sheepishly. "C-could we?" Edward nodded. Roy breathed a sigh of relief and he leaned his back against the wall. "Oh, thank you… I swear my legs are going to shrivel up with what little use they've been getting." He laughed at himself but trickled off into nervous chuckles as he saw Ed was not very amused. Or rather, he was unamused.

He coughed into his shoulder awkwardly and he looked back and forth from the floor to the teen as he could feel the air in the room grow increasingly heavy with tension. "So uh… What do you have there? In your hand?" he inquired, hoping the new topic would be kinder on the mood. Edward raised the file up and waved it off to the side of his face. "It's your case, you bastard. You know they're already trying to decide whether or not you should even have a trial, right?"

Roy straightened up. "Well… No! I haven't heard anything of what's been going on since… Since…" He looked at his feet, his toes suddenly becoming the most interesting sight in the world. Edward's lip twitched at the nonchalant attitude. "Since you went Cujo on us and ate a criminal, you mean?"

Roy jumped and his eyes grew very wide with desperation. "But I didn't! I… At least… I thought I didn't…" He bit his lip, the flesh brushing against the cage he had around his jaw. He closed his eyes and his brows came together into a wrinkled expression of contempt.

He let himself slink down the wall to the floor and he brought his legs up to his chest again and he buried his head into the cloth of his straight jacket. "But I don't know any more…" Edward stared at the man who was his superior. He had always carried an air of confidence and a smug smile as he wore his brilliant blue uniform with all of its ribbons marking his achievements and bands of gold showing his rank to all. But now… The once mighty man appeared hopeless and helpless as he sat in front of the boy, and Edward couldn't help but feel a bit of empathy trickle into his heart.

He knelt down to try and look at the man at his level, but the man did not move his head from its shelter. He placed his hand (still holding the files) on the man's shoulder, Roy jumping from the contact. "Hey… We'll try and figure this mess out, okay?" Roy looked up at the boy from behind his bangs and he nodded with a sniff.

Edward smiled and sat down to the man's right, pulling the clasp from the folder. "Okay, I know the police's report on what happened, but what's your side of it all?" he asked, carefully removing a small notebook and a pencil. Roy took a deep breath before starting. "Do you want it from the very beginning or just when things started to go awry for me?" Ed pondered over this question, hitting the pencil against his lips gently as he thought. "A little before you went… Well…" he motioned to all of Roy, implying the straight jacket. Roy smirked sadly before speaking.

"Well, I was chasing after a target I was to take down—you know about this part, right? (Edward nodded) Well, I was chasing him and I found he was hiding in a room sealed off by a large steel door. So I melted its hinges off and kicked it in. The room was… It was…" he struggled to find the right words. Edward rummaged through the folder and found the stack of photos. "This hellhole?" he asked, flashing the picture at Roy. The man bit his lip and nodded. Edward put the photo back into the stack and got back to writing.

"Continue."

"Okay. Well, anyway, I found myself in 'that hellhole' and I was unable to find the man in there. I did, however, see a small blue spark down near the ventilation system. When I knelt down to get a better look, I could see it was alchemic light. I crawled through the vent as quietly as I could but…"

Roy clenched his fists inside his sleeves.

"I was a dumbass for reaching for my gun. The damn thing hit the vent and then that psycho knew I was there. He dragged me out of there by my head and he beat me against the ground." Edward froze. "He beat you? Like, bruised and bloodied?" Roy nodded. "He split the cut on my head open and made my head spin. Why?" Edward looked back down at the photos. He flicked through them before pulling out the one of Roy looking at the camera at the scene.

Roy leaned over and looked at it. "But… But I was hurt…?! I was bleeding—I had whelps all over! Why don't I look… Look more injured?" he asked worriedly. Edward looked at the man and he raised a brow. "Are you sure you're not mistaking the prison incident with this one? I mean, you look kind of beat up, but that's from those policemen." Roy knitted his brows. "Wait, how bad do I look?"

Edward scoffed. "Well, I mean you've always looked like shit, but no you've got pretty bad bruise on your right temple and what looks like a healing split lip. Did they really aim for just your head? I mean, they said you had glass in your hand so I figured they wou—" "Wait what? Glass in my hand? I never had glass in my hand!"

Edward cocked his head. "But that's why they beat you—to keep you from using it as a weapon—right?" Roy shook his head. "Fullmetal, I'm not proud of this at all, but I was crying too hard to even see them coming toward me, let alone fight them off. They must've seen the cut…" Roy clenched his right hand, the knuckles clicking quietly. Edward reclined a bit against the cell wall and twirled his pencil around. "Look, sorry, but we'll get to that when we get to that. Right now we're discussing the factory, NOT the prison. Kapeesh?"

Roy nodded, swallowing lightly. "Sorry… He beat me and then dragged me over to the transmutation circle and I tried to fight him off. We had a bit of a kerfuffle but then I snapped my hands and he grabbed my head and then… Then…" Roy trailed off, his eyes clouded in a haze of confusion. "Then… I was being forced into the ground by my squadron and Lieutenant Hawkeye was staring at me and… She… She looked so… _So_ scared…"

Edward crossed his legs and he leaned forward. "But what about killing the culprit? Or you know you eating his heart?" Roy turned as if on a dime and he looked at Edward in horror. "His h-h-heart!? I ATE HIS HEART!?" he stammered, his eyes wide. Edward knitted his brows and nodded. "Youuuu ate his heart and some of his lung. I'm guessing some skin too but whatever I don't know."

He waited for a retort but he was met with only disbelief. "I… But I… Oh my God…!" Roy stared at the ceiling and he blinked rapidly, his eyes watering from sheer horror. Edward set his jaw. "You _do_ remember killing and eating him, right?" "No! No I do not! I don't—I—Fullmetal, I don't know what the hell is happening to me! All I know is that one second, I'm fighting for my life, and then the very next second I'm being arrested for a crime I would never EVER commit!"

Edward folded his arms and gave his commander a sarcastic look. "I'm telling the truth, Edward! I swear!" Roy pleaded. "Uh-huh. Sure. Look, I know you want to get out of this innocent but y—" "I DON'T CARE ABOUT GETTING OUT INNOCENT, ED, I CARE ABOUT MY SANITY!" Roy howled, curling in on himself and gasping for breath as he fought his emotions back.

"Colonel…"

_Awe, does poor little Roy-Boy not like the idea of being stuck in his nighty for the rest of his life?_

"**SHUT UP!"** Roy shouted, making Edward jump back in surprise. "I…" Ed spoke quietly, "I… Didn't say… Anything…" Roy whipped his head around to look at the teen and he knit his brows in anger. "Not you! HIM!" he hissed. Edward scooted over just a hair away from the man. "Coooolonel, we're the only ones here?"

Roy gritted his teeth and he exhaled sharply as a splitting pain struck his brain. "No… HE'S here… He's tormenting me…"

_Awe, I wouldn't call it _torment_ per se—_

"I SAID, SHUT UP! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Edward licked his lips nervously and he slowly rose to his feet. "Look, Mustang, if you want me to leave right now, just say it. I'd come back tomorrow anyway, soooo…" Roy looked at the teen, mortified. "N-no! No I told you, it's not you I'm yelling at! He keeps insulting me, ridiculing me, haunting me, hurting me, and he just won't stop! I NEED your help, Fullmetal, I really do."

Edward rearranged the files as he spoke rudely. "Well maybe if you quit saying 'he' and actually made sense, I could help…" Roy frowned and he began to jump up to retort.

"I AM MAKING SENSE! YOU JUST AREN'T—" but he found his center of gravity compromised as he could not balance himself with his arms. He fell forward and his face smashed into the cotton floor, the padding providing little aid to his pain. Edward stepped back as he looked upon his fallen superior who was then trying to pull himself to his knees. He swallowed. "Mustang… Look, I know all of this is kind of overwhelming, but uh, if you're going to keep acting like this then I'll just leave now."

Roy looked at the boy from behind his bangs, his open frown more pitiful thanks to the muzzle. "Ed… Please… Please don't leave me yet… You're the first one who's actually listened to my side without laughing at me!" Edward's shoulders slumped as Roy's plead set in.

"Have… Have people laughed at you?" Roy shut his eyes and could hear an uproar of distorted laughs and jibes scream in his head. He nodded slowly, timidly. Edward exhaled (akin to blowing out a candle) and he scratched the back of his neck. "Well… Sorry then. I guess…"

Roy rested his chin on the floor and he pouted as he looked at the boy. "Don't give me that look, Bastard," Ed growled through clenched teeth. Roy's expression softened and then grew dark as he turned away.

"If you want to leave now, leave."

Edward reset his balance and he raised a brow. "Oh, so now it's okay if I go? I thought you were crestfallen that I even suggested such a—" "I DON'T NEED THE SASS, FULLMETAL!" Roy screamed, his voice cracking significantly as he strained with his volume. "WHAT I NEED IS HELP AND SOMEONE TO TALK TO THAT DOESN'T WANT TO KILL ME OR DRIVE ME NUTS OR MAKE ME SEE HELL INCARNATE! BUT IF YOU WANT TO LEAVE ME BECAUSE YOU'RE SCARED OF… Scared of… Me… Then…!" Roy trailed off, his speech becoming more and more thick as his frown grew. He rolled over onto his side and turned his back to the boy. He curled into fetal position and he exhaled slowly, shutting his eyes.

_**Pa**_**the**_**tic.**__**.Murde**_**rer**_**.Dum**_**bass._Bast_****ard**_**.Fool**_**.N**_**obody**_**.F**_**ailure**__** .**_

"Please… Just leave me alone…! For five minutes, just shut up… I'm begging you…" Roy cried quietly, pulling in on himself tighter as the insults poured from his brain and into his heart. Edward stared at the man. He was so tiny now, so weak. He squatted down behind the man and he tapped the folder on the back of his neck as he fidgeted, trying to find the right words. He looked down at Roy's feet and noticed he had cuts around his ankles and as he took a breath to ask how he got them, Roy himself answered; rubbing his ankles with his feet, his toenails scratched at them, tiny specks of blood forming on the pale skin. Edward leaned forward and rested his automail hand on Roy's calf, scaring the man.

"You should stop that… You're hurting yourself," he said softly. Roy looked down and saw the injuries. He turned back and he continued. "Hey! I said you should stop that!" Ed said louder, pulling the feet away from each other. Roy exhaled loudly and he kicked the boy away, knocking him back onto him bum, but not harshly. Edward growled and set the files down. "I'm just trying to help!" Roy began trying to pull his arms away from his chest, but the jacket held them securely and he slammed his head to the ground in frustration. "It…" he offered explanation, "It helps distract from Him."

Edward rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Okay, for the last time, who is _him_?"

"Him."

Edward slapped his hand to his face and he groaned. "Of course! _HIM._ Oh, how could I be so stupid?" he said sarcastically. Roy twitched, his body jerking slightly. Edward took notice to this and he watched as the man forced himself onto his knees.

He still had his back turned to the boy.

"Colonel…?" Ed asked nervously, slowly reaching for the files.

Roy turned around at an agonizingly slow pace, his face obscured by the mask straps and his hair. He froze and he smiled widely, his slightly-yellowing teeth glistening in the light. Edward stood up quickly and he began walking backwards towards the door, not removing his gaze from the man. Roy turned around completely and he stared at the young alchemist with wide, terrifyingly empty eyes; his pupils shrinking and his irises dulling in color. He began breathing quickly, but unevenly.

Edward quickened his backtracking toward the door, his adrenaline beginning to pound through his veins.

Roy started giggling, softly at first, but then he suddenly exploded into a hellish shriek of unbridled gaiety. He rolled around on the cell floor, his eyes unblinking. He froze when his eyes refocused on Ed, and his laughter subsided and he watched the boy fumble behind himself, trying to find the door handle.

"_**What's the matter, Eddy, do you not want to play with me~?"**_ Roy cooed through his satanic smile, his voice noticeably higher pitched and far more raspy. Ed felt his insides freeze as he began hitting on the cell door, trying to get the guard's attention without provoking his boss. "N-no, I don't…" he stammered, tapping the door.

_._._ _ _.

_._._ _ _.

_Come on, come on!_ Ed begged in his thoughts. _Open the door already!_

Roy's smile faded as he recognized the code_**. "Awe, looks like Little Red Riding Hood doesn't want to play with the Big Bad Wolf anymore!" **_Roy pouted, his eyes still wide open, tears pouring down his face from their attempts at moisturizing his drying eyes. Roy brought himself up to his feet and he swayed as he steadied himself. He began chuckling, his head tilting to the left as he looked at the frightened teen. _**"Well, if Little Red doesn't want to play… Maybe the **_**Little Piggy**_** does!"**_ he spoke through his teeth.

"Damn it!" Ed yelled, finding himself at his breaking point. "LET ME OUT! GUARD, PLEASE!" The officer jumped from his post and he began running toward the cell. Roy roared as he lunged for the boy and Edward screamed as he dodged the maniac.

"Mustang, stop! I'm your friend!" Ed shouted as he frantically ran around the cell, avoiding the man's assaults. "Roy Mustang, stop that this instant!" the large officer ordered as he ran into the cell. Roy turned on his heels and he screamed as the man ran toward him, his voice bellowing out, seemingly amplified by his chest like a speaker. The guard tackled Roy to the ground and he held him down, allowing for Edward to run for the door. As Ed caught his breath out in the hallway he watched two more officers run into the cell with police batons and belts. He stared at the door in confusion until he heard a loud 'CRACK!' and Roy's shriek of pain.

He gasped and he ran to the opening of the cell and watched in horror as the men brought their weapons down onto Roy's head, the belts smacking his face like a whip.

"NO! STOP IT! WHAT DID I D-AAAAAAAAAAGH! STOP IT! RAAAAAGH! I'M BEGGING YOU! I'M SORRY!" Roy screamed, his voice suddenly normal and his smile now replaced with a horrified grimace. Edward could only watch as the man was 'disciplined' for his lashing out, and he felt his arms and legs quiver with empathized pain as each hit and slap sent Roy into even louder screams. He squeezed his eyes shut and he bolted down the hallway, Roy's screams following him as he fled.

"FULLMETAL! HELP MEEEE! PLEASE—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH! EDWARD!"

He froze. He turned around and stared at the cell at the end of the hall, waiting for more. All he could hear was sobbing cries that echoed in the building, all other residents respectfully silent. The guards exited the cell and they slammed the door shut, locking it all the way down. Edward gasped as he saw one of the men _spit_ into the cell and the other rubbing what looked to be blood from his hands. Ed tightened his hands into fists.

"There is definitely more than just a murder going on, Mustang, and I swear to God I will find the answer to all this…"


End file.
